Yin and Yang
by GreyEyesGlaringAtShonda
Summary: Cristina’s words were her weapons, and she used them well. CB mostly, also DM. Takes place in the future.....................................................................................................................................................
1. Chapter 1

**Yin and Yang.**

By greyeyedgirl You might know me as RuthilovesGA JADE, Ruthilovesbc More Than Coffee, bang2009 The Incision, LJ, fanforum, or meredithshepherd4ever ABC).

Chapter 1, starting a new story even though I haven't actually finished one of my old ones yet. :P :D

Chapter One: I'm too lazy to think of a clever title. Just pick your favorite song and let that be the title. See? Everyone's happy. :D That's what's called a peace-maker. Prestinaluvr says I'm the Yin to her Yang. rotfl, hopefully she remembers what I'm talking about and isn't like 'wtf, what a little weirdo.' :p

Summary: Cristina's words were her weapons, and she used them well. CB mostly, also DM. Takes place in the future...

Cristina's words were her weapons. She knew the quality of the weapon was more importantly, but just as important was the way it was used. It doesn't do any good to have a bazooka if you have no aim, but a B.B. gun shot in just the way could do some serious damage.

"So, Meredith, you're looking pretty big."

A mean statement to be sure, but with Cristina's voice and unimplied sarcasm, the comment sliced through Meredith like the scalpel she had just finished using 10 minutes before.

"Excuse me?" She asked, setting her tray down on the lunch table as she and Cristina took their seats.

Cristina reacted as if she hadn't heard a thing. "Does Derek know?" She asked innocently, opening her milk cartoon.

"That I'm _fat_? I'd imagine he does if you think so, given that he's been seeing a lot of me than you have recently."

Cristina rolled her eyes, sticking her straw into her chocolate milk and taking a sip. "That you're pregnant."

Meredith gaped at her, her eyes narrowing into slits. "How do you-I mean-I'm not pregnant!"

"Sure," Cristina smirked, but the two attendings were interrupted by the arrival of Burke, standing by Cristina at the table.

"Cristina?" He asked, flashing a quick smile at Meredith. "I have a emergency triple bypass that just got scheduled. Is there any way you could get the girls and Preston?"

"Sure," Cristina said, looking up and smiling, blushing as he bent down to kiss her quickly. "I'll have to call Vella, though, and tell her I'll be late, I don't get off till six."

"That's fine, I was going to get them at about a quarter after anyway. I have to go, I'll see you tonight, though, all right?" He gave her shoulder a quick rub as he headed down and towards the entrance of the hospital. Meredith got up like she was going to follow him.

"Don't you dare! I want details. How far are you? You look almost 3 months."

"Four."

Cristina looked up, and for once there was a bit of surprise. "You're done with your first trimester? God, you hid your morning sickness great."

Meredith picked at her food without answering. "No," she said quietly.

"What?"

"Derek. He doesn't know."

Cristina put down her fork. "How come you haven't told him?"

Meredith shrugged.

Cristina's eyes widened. "It's _his,_ isn't it?" Another cruel comment made even meaner by Cristina's tone.

Meredith glared down at her spaghetti. "That's not even a joke."

Cristina went back to scarfing down her food, waiting for Meredith's continuance. Meredith didn't know it, but she had strong words too. She could come up with a thousand words for each topic, or just the same words repeated a thousand times before you just agreed to feel sorry for her in order to get her to stop. Meredith's weapon wasn't a gun, it was a knife, slicing in and in, until you finally gave in once the blade dulled. Cristina knew Meredith would spill eventually, and had enough on her mind to care about being impatient until the whole kettle blew.

"We're not married. His divorce isn't even final yet."

Cristina glanced up from the noodle she had just twisted around her fork. "Uh huh."

"Well...that's not exactly an ideal situation, is it?"

Cristina shrugged, starting on her breadstick. "That won't matter to McDreamy. He'll be thrilled. He's obviously crazy about you, and you've never shown an impending fear towards having kids, so..." She shrugged. "What's the problem?"

Meredith just sighed, pushing her tray away from her in the usual melodramatic way.

"Emily. Your word is 'work.'" The judge stood back, and the small girl in front trembled, looking out at the audience, her parents sitting just behind an attractive dark-haired couple with a three-year-old boy on the man's lap and a gurgling almost one-year-old girl with a mass of curls sitting on the woman's.

"Werk. W-" She stopped, mouthing a few vowels, thinking. "O-R-C. Work."

"I'm sorry, that is incorrect." The girl's long red hair shook, the tiny five-year-old running crying off the stage. Burke clapped sympathetically along with several other people as the man and woman sitting behind them jumped up to race after their daughter.

"Kayla. Your word is 'work.'"

The tiny four-year-old, shorter than the other children, jumped off her chair onstage, running to the microphone and pulling on the speaker part so it reached her lips. "Work. W, O, R, K. Work."

"That is correct," the principle said. Kayla beamed, waving to her parents, and Cristina and Burke waved back.

The kindergarten-through-second grade spelling bee continued, with the words getting progressively harder, until three children were left, two second graders, a bespectacled boy and a shy looking brown-haired girl, and Kayla, the only kindergartner and the youngest at her school.

"Brianna. Your word is 'strength.'"

The small girl crept forward, standing in front of the audience looking shy but sure. "Strength," she said, her soft voice carrying through the auditorium because of the microphone. "S-T-R, E-N-G-T-H. Strength."

"That is correct."

Brianna let out a nervous sigh of relief, the tall-for-age, gangly second-grade boy came forward.

"Aaron. Your word is 'separate.'"

The boy cleared his throat, speaking into the mike. "Seh-separate. S, E, P...E, R, A, T, E."

"I'm sorry. That is incorrect. Kayla, if you spell this right you will be in the finals with Miss Epstein."

Kayla walked up to the microphone, waiting.

"Spell 'separate.'"

"Sep-rit. S-e-p-a-r-a-t-e. Sep-rit."

"That is correct. You are now competing only against Miss Epstein." There was a small shuffling as Aaron headed back down the steps, his head hanging.

"Brianna. Your word is 'photograph.'"

"Photograph. P-H-O-T-O-G-R-A-P-H. Photograph."

"Correct. Kayla, your word in 'organize.'"

"Organise. O-R-G-A-N-I-Z-E. Organize."

Cristina and Burke sat perfectly still, nervous for their daughter, for the next fifteen minutes, as different parents slowly drudged their restless children out of the auditorium periodically. The small girl on Cristina's lap squirmed, and Burke handed her her bottle without looking at her, Cristina patting the girl's hair absently.

"I'm sorry. That is incorrect. Kayla, if you spell this correctly you will be our winner. Your word is 'receive.'"

"Re-seeve. R-E-C-E-I-V-E. Re-seeve."

Clapping had broken out before the judge had even spoken, and Cristina and Burke had lifted their two youngest children up, each clapping and cheering the best they could. Kayla beamed, running down the stage and hugging her. Cristina had the baby, so she had the most arm room, and she whipped Kayla off the ground, grinning. "Great job. Congratulations, smarty." Kayla beamed as Burke bent down to kiss her forehead. "Good job, sweetie. I'm so proud of you."

"Daddy, Daddy, I won!" Kayla exclaimed. "First place, I'm the best!"

"Shhh," Burke said, looking over at where Brianna was standing, her father trying to hug her while she pushed him away, as she stared off into the distance. "Other people work hard, too, and deserve to win, and you don't have to be the best at everything, Kayla. Just do _your_ best."

"Uh huh. But Daddy, I won, that means I spelled better than evryone else!"

Burke smiled. "You worked hard for it. Good job." He kissed her again, then nudged his son, looking at him pointedly. "Good job, Kay Kay," the tiny, shy boy said, smiling from behind his glasses. Kayla grinned at him. "Mommy Mommy, since I did so good can I watch you op-rate?"

Cristina grinned, readjusting her arms to get a better grip on both her daughters. "Only if Meredith, Izzie, or George is there to baby-sit you in the Gallery. Then you can come tomorrow."

"Yesss! Thank you Mommy."

There was a squeal from the microphone, then the judge, Kayla's school principle Donald Gates, cleared his throat into it. "If we can have our first, second, and third place winners up here, we're going to get a picture for the school newsletter, and we have prizes to hand out."

Kayla carefully headed back up to the stage, almost tripping on one of the steps. She grinned widely for the picture, her curls pinned half back by a purple scrunchie with beads. She accepted her gift certificate for Barnes and Nobles graciously, saying 'thank you' and smiling just like her father had taught her too. Burke and Cristina smiled, clapping along with the other members of the audience and little Preston, who had buried his head in his father's neck at all the noise.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yin and Yang **

chapter 2 by GREYEYEDGIRL WHO IS OBSESSED WITH GREY"S ANATOMY AND MORE IMPORTANTLY CRISTINA AND BURKE :D

"So. Have you told McDreamy about the mini-tike yet?" Cristina looked absently down over Preston's shoulder at the picture book on the floor in front of them, her son sitting between her outstretched legs as she sat on her living room floor. Kristin sat a few feet away playing with blocks, her face completely focused under the layers of curly black hair framing it.

Meredith grimaced uncomfortably. "No."

"Um...Are you gonna mention it soon, or are you going to wait till it's born and see if he notices the screaming, pooping machine that has moved in with you?"

Preston looked up from 'The Little Train That Could.' "You're preg-nant, Aunt Merry-dith?"

Meredith looked down at him. "Can you keep a secret?"

Preston nodded solemnly.

"Then yes. I'm pregnant."

Preston smiled slowly, a little white flash appeared for a glimpse of a second before disappearing again. "Congradulashins." He said. Cristina looked up, a sly grin on her face. "Yeah, Mer. Congratulations," she echoed. Preston had already went back to his book, looking down at the picture on the page with a slightly wary look on his face.

"I've set up a deadline to when I _have_ to tell him by." Meredith smiled at the tiny girl playing a couple feet away, who had now set up the blocks in a defined structure. "Kristin's birthday is in two weeks, I'll have _definitely_ have told him by then," she said confidently.

"Will you still be four months along then?"

"No," Meredith said, struggling to keep from wincing. "I'll be five," she said, managing to keep her voice nonchalant. Cristina 'tsk'ed at her from her spot looking over Preston's shoulder. "McDreamy's gonna be pissed. He'll have missed half the pregnancy. Have you even been to the doctor, yet?" She asked, glancing up. "Do you know your due date?"

"Given my recent history with O.B.G.Y.N.s? Not exactly."

"Mommy what's this wurd?"

Cristina looked down at the small, quiet voice. "Which one, babe?"

Preston pointed at the page. Cristina answered. "'Mighty.'" "My-tee," Preston repeated softly to himself, looking back down at the page. "Like 'strong?'" He asked his mother. Cristina nodded, smiling slightly.

"Strong's like 'strength.' That was a word at Kay Kay's spell bee."

Cristina thought back to the week before. "You're right," she said, smiling at her son. Preston looked up, smiling proudly. "When's Daddy and Kay Kay coming home?"

"As soon as they get the pizza," Cristina responded.

"That reminds me. I should get going. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Cristina glanced up at Meredith. "Yeah. See you tomorrow." Meredith waved, then leaned down to ruffle Preston's short hair, then kiss her goddaughter's head, before heading out the door.


End file.
